


Years of Toiling Reason

by nikirik



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Spoilers Season 7 Episode 1 Part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikirik/pseuds/nikirik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An episode-related fic written for the lewis-challenge.livejournal.com Season 7 Fanwork Challenge: 7.2. for the prompt "The end scene - what's Robbie thinking?" by xfdryad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Years of Toiling Reason

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: unbetaed, quotes and title from Wordsworth "Lines Written at a Small Distance from my House, And Sent by my Little Boy to the Person to Whom They Are Addressed".

  
Oh, no, the lad was moping again. Look at him sitting on the bench all Byron-like (wonder if Byron smoked). Well, maybe sandwiches were a good idea. As Val used to say: "Give a man his food and he'll eat out of your hand."   
The sandwich's forgotten on James' lap.  
Must be serious.  
"Can we please stay here for a minute?" such a small voice.  
"Course we can."   
Sort him out, like always. But now it was somehow different, as if James became distant, unapproachable even. It was in his nature to grieve for each death in his way, cutting a pound of soul each time, as if he was responsible, as if his soul was not of the finite quantity (and maybe it wasn't). And it only proved how young he really was and that it would probably break him to understand (the wisdom long carved into Robbie's flesh and mind): the death will never end.   
" _And bring no book: for this one day We'll give to idleness_ ," Robbie mumbled over his food.  
That brought a shadow of a smile to James' lips.   
"Wordsworth, Sir?"  
"No, an offer to skive off," firmly said Robbie raising up and holding out his hand.  
" _One moment now may give us more Than years of toiling reason_ ," it came out as deep as an Oxford bell, lulling and promising at the same time, James reaching out to him.  
And as they looked away from each other, James watching the sky and Robbie unromantically chewing, they interlaced their fingers just for a briefest moment, and life went on.


End file.
